Busterisms

A few days ago, we (The Brown family) were camped out at this place in The Redwood National State Forest (which is an experience worthy of it's own blog entry, but I'll save that for some future date that I won't commit to right now) and we were just walking up to the forest ranger at his little kiosk to pay for our spot and ask him some questions. The State Park employee was a 20-ish year old, curly haired boy (you know your getting old when you start calling 20 year old's "boy's") working inside the kiosk. As always when interacting with people, strangers in particular, with Buster at my side, there is a fear of what outcome and reactions will result after Buster's vocal observations and judgments have been made.  In the past, I'm afraid his innocent inquisitions to strangers have more often than not, left me pink in the cheeks, deeply embarrassed, and stuck in tricky and awkward situations. 

Luckily, however, on this day, the humor of the situation outweighed the minimal embarrassment. Woo.  

So, back to the story. After Jaron had paid for our campsite, he began asking which sort of hikes the lad would recommend for a young family.  I couldn't help but notice, that as usual when meeting knew people, Buster's eyes were lazered in on this new person, and the wheels were turning. The moment Jaron and the worker stopped talking, Buster seized his moment (and as I held my breath) ,looking directly up at the worker he said, "Um, Do you have a job"?! His tone of voice was hilariously condescending. It was clear that Buster did not think that standing in that kiosk all day every day was was worthy of being called "a job".  

The ranger laughed, and replied "Why yes I sure do. This is my job". "Oh", Buster said. Then placing his hand on his hip, and cocking it to one side he asked "Well, then who are you in charge of?"  I swear, I don't know where he gets his boldness from! 
Luckily, the boy found being interrogated by a five year old amusing, and he gave a hearty laugh and said "Well, no one really, I just make sure everyone is playing by the rules that stays here". Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy Buster for the time being. 

Then, a few minutes later after we were already walking away from the kiosk, the curly haired lad ran after us to return an item that we had dropped (go figure). Buster was startled by this, and after the boy was already on his way back to the kiosk, Buster whispered thoughtfully , "Hu! So, he does come out of there sometimes". Warner looked at Buster and said "Who are you talking about Buster?" To which Buster replied confidently "The. . . the . . . you know, the professional".  (Note, I have never heard him use this word before so that in and of itself was hilarious). What five year old uses the word professional?!  

He went on to try to explain further who he was referring to. "Yea, the professional. That guy".  Thoroughly amused I asked "Buster, what is he a professional of?" to which Buster thought for a moment, looked back toward the kiosk, and said "He's a. . . a. . . a professional (long pause). . . human"! Then, he stopped walking, looked back toward the long curly haired worker in the kiosk once again, started shaking his head from side to side in a "no" direction and said "No. Actually he's a professional woman. Yea. He's a professional woman".  

I literally laughed so hard I peed. But that's really not saying much seems how I've birthed four children. 

Kids. They provide the best free entertainment, don't they? 

Here he is enjoying the last of his ice cream cone at the Tillamook Cheese factory in Oregon, and he is just about to get really upset, because Ruby has taken his napkin and ripped it.